


I'll be waiting on you forever

by craploadsofawesome



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Because Scorpia deserves the best, Catra is a good friend to Scorpia, Drama, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romance, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24681160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craploadsofawesome/pseuds/craploadsofawesome
Summary: She looks at the girl, and thinks Oh, here you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. She feels the world shift beneath her feet, and she doesn’t know why she wants to keep staring at the girl with her blonde hair up in a ponytail and her face streaked with dust, for a long, long time. She thinks I know who you are. She thinks You feel like home. She thinks If you wanted to give me bruises and scars, I would gladly kneel before you and let you slice me open, end to end.Then she thinks, Fuck.The canon divergence AU, where Catra and Adora aren't enemies, not exactly. Not that they're friends, either, mind you. They're just idiots on opposite sides of a war, trying desperately not to fall in love with each other, which seems to be complicated, since they're apparently soulmates.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Netossa/Spinnerella (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 294





	1. One glance and the avalanche drops

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, it's been a long time since I've written, but I re-watched the last season of She-Ra yesterday, and thought, you know what? Wouldn't it be absolutely awesome if Catra got her memories wiped at the beginning of the series and didn't remember who Adora was, and then got to fall in love with her?
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys like it. Happy reading!

Years after the end of the world, Adora will sit in a rocking chair outside her cottage, surrounded by her grandchildren, and tell the story of how it all began. They will be beautiful, eager and completely impossible to control, and most of her time would go in watching Melog chase them down so they won’t run off and hurt themselves. Swift Wind will help, if he’s visiting, and can’t think of a reason he deserves to sleep instead of picking up scamps by the collar of their shirts and depositing them in front of her. And when the orchestra will come to an end, when all of them are tuckered out and leaning on the old horse, Adora will start by telling them that once upon a time, there was a princess who accidentally fell in love with a scamp, and turned the world upside down. 

And Swift Wind will ask her to watch who she’s calling old, and Finn will groan and pretend they’re bored, but Adora will know they’re still listening, because no matter how old they get, the story of how their mothers met will always be their favorite. And right as she’s finished the first statement, Catra, her life, her love, her wife, will walk out, plant herself on Adora’s lap, and announce that she’s telling the story all wrong. 

“How do I tell it then, my love?” she will ask, her arms wrapped around Catra, her world at peace, and her wife will laugh, tell the kids that the story starts when once upon a time, a scamp fell in love with a princess. 

“Actually,” Finn interjects “Doesn’t it start when the Horde wins, drives the princesses into hiding, and starts the age-old conflict of Magic versus No Magic?” 

“Am I your mother, or are you mine?” Catra will ask her, and Finn would poke their tongue out at their parents. 

But all of the arguments won’t matter. Adora likes to think that there are a million ways of telling the same story, that you can pick any point to begin and still manage to join the dots of the middle together to form a coherent tale. After all, how complicated could a story possibly be? It begins with conflict, threads along on a path of resistance, and ends with love. Any story that had her and Catra, no matter how it started, could only ever end in love. 

**********

**Finn** **’s** **version of the beginning** : 

Catra doesn’t know where Adora is. Usually, she gives it about five hours before she actively starts worrying about her whereabouts, but it’s been three whole days, and she hasn’t heard back from her. She’s asked around, but all they tell her is that the last time they had seen her was when she had been gearing up for a mission in one of the Princess owned villages. She tells them, exasperated, that it couldn’t be that because Adora had returned after the mission, a little bruised but mostly alright, and crashed onto her bed within minutes of her head hitting the mattress. No, it had to be in the middle of the night that she must have left for somewhere. 

_But_ , and here her inner voice would get annoying, whiny and anxious, _where would she go without me?_ They were Catra and Adora. One couldn’t exist without the other. 

_Or, more accurately_ , another nasty, voice inside her head pops up, _you couldn’t survive without her._

She tells it to shut up, even though her heart isn’t in it. Adora is the only person that matters in her world. Adora grounds her. Not knowing where she is, or how she is, makes her feel a little lost, a little dazed. Untethered somehow. 

Kyle and Rogelio are no help. She ends up screaming at them, and gets snarked at in return by Lonnie. Shadow Weaver, of course, isn’t really an option, so she sneaks around the Fright Zone, calling out Adora’s name in the deserted areas. No one calls back, and her worry only grows. Earlier, it was just a warning hum in the back of her head, and slowly it’s grown to this fever pitch scream of _whereisshewhereisshewhereisshe_ that she cannot block out anymore. She doesn’t eat much at dinner, though she swipes an extra protein bar in case Adora comes back and is hungry. Her stomach keeps twisting in worry. She’s out there all alone, her thoughts supply, on a loop. What if she’s scared? Or hurt? What if something happens to her? 

It is this last thought that decides it for her. Catra waits until all the other recruits are asleep, then carefully sneaks out of the Fright Zone. It’s time to find Adora and bring her back. 

*****

Except there’s a tiny bit of a complication. Adora doesn’t want to come back. 

“They’ve been lying to us, manipulating us this whole time, Catra,” Adora has her hands on her shoulders, and while Catra is relived to find that she’s okay, she isn’t quite sure what, all this is. 

“Uh, duh,” she says “Did you just figure that out? Manipulation is kinda Shadow Weaver’s whole thing.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” Adora asks her, aghast, like she has just seen the light. 

(And even like this, even fighting, Catra cannot stop the way her body just grows warm around her. _What an idiot,_ she thinks, fondly.) 

“I mean, I put up with it because we’re together, you know?” she tells Adora, and honestly, that seems like the summary of her life so far. Anything goes, as long as Adora’s there with her. There are no sides, no rebellions. Just Catra and Adora, against the world “And in just a few years, we’ll be at the top!” 

Adora steps back at that, hesitates. 

“What?” she asks, again, confused now. A boy and a girl stand a few feet behind them, staring daggers in her direction “Come on, Adora. Let’s go.” 

“I,” Adora starts, looks at them, then back at her “I can’t. I can’t go back. It isn’t right.” 

Catra doesn’t understand “You, you’re leaving me?” 

“It’s not like that, Catra,” Adora pleads, desperately, reaching out for her, and for the first time ever in her life, Catra steps back. 

“What is it like, then? It’s either me or them. You pick.” 

Adora opens her mouth, and before she can say anything more, there’s a tremendous thundering and Catra turns to see the Horde crash the party. There are machines and tanks, and to her alarm, Shadow Weaver, cutting through the gaps. 

“Catra! Adora! Get over here.” she calls out, loudly, and her voice is so effective that both of them stand still, look at her. The spell is broken, when the boy fires an arrow into one of the machines and everything is suddenly a blur of motion. The girl keeps disappearing and reappearing above the machines to punch their lights out. Some kind of magic teleportation, Catra deduces. Shadow Weaver does something complicated with her hands and starts pulling out rocks. The Earth cracks in places, one crack forms right between her and Adora, and there they stand, staring at each other. 

That’s when Shadow Weaver reaches her, and the last thing Catra remembers is Adora screaming her name before everything goes black. 

*****

When she wakes up, the first thing she registers is that she’s strapped to a table somewhere she thinks is probably Hordak’s evil lair. Her head hurts, and her fur is standing on edge. She can hear Hordak and Shadow Weaver argue about something in muffled voices. If she concentrates, she would probably be able to make it out, but she closes her eyes back, wanting to go back to sleep, because the second thought she has is that Adora is gone. _Adora is gone_ , she thinks, again, and her stomach twists with absolute emptiness. _Adora left me. She left. She left me alone._

“That’s right, Catra,” Shadow Weaver tells her, in that faux soothing tone she usually reserves for only Adora, and Catra realizes she has been mumbling all of that out loud “Adora left you for the Rebellion. She left with her new friends.” 

New friends. Her stomach twists again, and she finds that she is angry. There’s white-hot rage building up inside her mixed with the loneliness. Couldn’t Adora have stayed for her? Wasn’t she enough? 

“But it doesn’t matter, now,” Shadow Weaver gently runs her hand over her hand, and Catra is too tired to shake her head away. She’s just so tired and so (lonely) angry “Adora won’t be a problem for you soon.” 

Shadow Weaver straightens, tells Hordak to do it, whatever this it might be. Catra doesn’t much care anymore. 

“I’m not sure it will work,” Hordak says “Isn’t there anythin else we can try?” 

“This is the only way,” she hears Shadow Weaver insist “Adora will come back for her, I know that. And if they’re together-” 

Their voices trail off into murmurs again, and Catra closes her eyes. Whatever they want to do to her can’t possibly be worse than whatever she’s feeling now, so what does it all matter anyway? 

*****

On her way to Force Captain training to somewhere far, far away (she’s sure Shadow Weaver told her the name but she was too out of it to care), Catra sits alone in the corner of the carriage, diagonally opposite of a girl with scorpion stingers on her arms, who has just introduced herself as Scorpia. Scorpia is tall, apparently very powerful, and apparently has the habit of apologizing every two minutes. Catra thinks Scorpia wants to be friends with her, although she has no idea why. It’s not like she has ever had friends before. 

On her way to somewhere far, far away, where she will stay for a year, Catra sits in a carriage and thinks of the last conversation between Shadow Weaver and Hordak that she had eavesdropped on. They kept mentioning someone called Adora. Catra does not know who this girl was, or why the name made her ache inside. Adora. Pretty name, she thinks. 

**********

**Catra** **’s** **version of** **the story** : 

In a completely shocking turn of events, Scorpia has managed to spectacularly screw over her first mission as Force Captain. 

“Catra, I’m sorry!” she says, her pincers clacking together, the usual puppy dog forlorn expression on her face. For a scorpion, she really is more bark than sting, Catra thinks, and has an internal chuckle at her own joke. 

“You’re sorry you accidentally became friends with a group of children from the village we had spent an entire week trying to get under the Horde’s control, and you’re sorry that you accidentally set them free to potentially go and call for help from the rebellion?” 

“I.....yes?” 

Kyle, Lonnie and Rogelio stand there, their heads going back and forth between her and Scorpia, and she tells them to scram and do some damage control. She doesn’t think it works, going by the fact that almost two minutes after she sends them out, there is an almighty yell that Catra recognizes as Kyle’s. The princesses have arrived. 

*****

Catra first sees her in the middle of the battle. Everything is kinetic. Fighting comes on autopilot to her. It’s just jumping and slashing and pointing her laser at the nearest Princess. In this case it’s someone who throws nets with dizzying accuracy. You’d think it wasn’t much of a talent, but the woman’s nets hurt and they were a pain to get out of. Catra was sore all over. Add to that the fact that she also had to make sure Scorpia was alright. That dork had the annoying habit of holding back because she was scared that she’d hurt someone. Catra constantly worried that she would let someone important get away because of her hesitation. Also, and this was something she would never admit because she had a reputation to maintain, she was worried Scorpia would get hurt herself because of her own idiocy. So, there she is, swiping and attacking when a hush fall over the warring crowd, and she turns to see what’s going on. 

A tall, glowing girl with her back to Catra has her sword out, and is currently in the process of taking out all their tanks. She just jumps on them deftly, and breaks them in half with a giant sword that she has. Catra is begrudgingly impressed. There’s something about the way she moves, a glowing warrior made of light. Sometimes, she will point her sword at the flying bots and a wave of magic will shoot out of it. It’s a generally awe-inspiring picture. 

Catra shakes her head. This will not do. So she slams the net woman into a tree, while she’s distracted, and runs over to this new girl. 

“Hey!” she calls out, loudly, preparing to stun her with her laser, except the teleporting princess shouts out a warning to the girl, and she turns around, her sword raised- 

-and freezes. 

Catra doesn’t think much of life. What she does remember is growing up alone in the Horde, hating, and being hated by the other recruits, protein bars in the middle of the night, and sleepless walks around the ruins of the Fright Zone. Then there was her training in Enguardia, slowly learning how to be the absolute best fighter she could possibly become so that she could be Force Captain and put down the stupid rebellion for good. Life is a series of bumps and bruises, and she’s always been fine with it. 

Until now. 

The girl, this mighty warrior who looks even taller right up there, who has bested almost half of her bots singlehandedly, looks at her and stumbles. Her sword dangles from her hands, which are now by her side, and as Catra stares at her, the glowing stops and she transforms into a regular sized girl. A regular sized girl who looks into her eyes like she knows her, and falls down to her knees. 

“Catra?” she asks, and for the first time in this life of eighteen years, Catra has the feeling that life is more than pain. She looks at the girl, and thinks _Oh, here you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere_. She feels the world shift beneath her feet, the way it does when you stand up too quickly and are waiting for everything else to catch up to you. That is how Catra feels. Like she’s been running too fast for far too long and this is the real world catching up with her. She doesn’t know why this girl knows her name, but more importantly, she doesn’t know why she has the feeling that she should know the girl’s name too. Doesn’t know why she wants to keep staring at the girl with her blonde hair up in a ponytail and her face streaked with dust for a long, long time. She thinks _I know who you are_. She thinks _You feel like home_. She thinks _If you wanted to give me bruises and scars, I would gladly kneel before you and let you slice me open, end to end._

Then she thinks, _Fuck._

They stand there, looking at each other, the girl on her knees, Catra looking down at her, until the spell is broken abruptly. 

“Adora!” a boy holding a bow in his hand yells “Why aren’t you attacking her?” 

“I,” the girl apparently named Adora replies, then trails off “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

Adora ignores him, and the look in her eyes seems too personal for her. Catra steps back as Adora rises to her feet, extends her hand towards her. 

“Catra.” 

“I don’t know who you are,” Catra tells her. 

“But,” Adora’s brows are furrowed now “It’s, it’s me. Adora. We. I. You know me.” 

I do, she thinks, but stays quiet, stepping back again. 

“I don’t know who you are,” she repeats, and turns away. 

*****

“But are you sure you don’t know who that lady was?” Scorpia asks her, for what seems like the fifth time in two minutes. 

“Scorpia,” she sighs, then grits her teeth “I swear to God.” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” her second-in-command says, pincers up in a placating gesture “It’s just that it looked like she knew you, you know. Nobody’s ever known She Ra to just do that. Lose her powers or whatever. Just seems weird.” 

Of course, it’s weird. She is not the random poetry spouting in the middle of the battlefield person. Neither is she going crazy over a pretty girl and wanting them to cut her into pieces kind. She doesn’t know what is happening. Her mind keeps replaying images on the girl on a loop in her head, as though people at a police lineup. Do you recognize this one? Adora attacking the bots. This one maybe? Adora kneeling in front of her, her sword held loosely in her hands? What about her? Adora saying her name like she knows her, that look in her eyes. She tries to shake them out of her head. Nothing works. 

“Oh, Catra?” Scorpia’s voice cuts in the middle of her musing. 

“Yes, Scorpia?” 

“How mad would you be if I told you I accidentally made a friend from the Rebellion?” 

Well. That worked. 

*****

In the middle of the night, as Scorpia lays beside her and gushes about how nice this one flower princess she calls Perfuma is, Catra’s thoughts return to Adora. What is it about this girl that makes her feel so off balance? Why can she not stop thinking about her? Adora’s voice saying her name, telling her they know each other over and over in her head. Adora’s hair flying in the wind, coming to rest just over her eyes. _Adora, Adora, Adora_ , she thinks a little angry, a lot confused. _Who are you? Why do you make me feel like this?_ Everything’s so uncertain all of a sudden. Everything’s a little brighter. 

Catra doesn’t know that about two hundred miles away, Adora is pacing around the castle at Brightmoon, her head as consumed with thoughts of Catra as Catra’s is, with her. She has no idea that Bow and Glimmer are staring at Adora, concerned because they’ve never seen her like this. She doesn’t know that when she finally crashes, Adora will dream of her, and smile in her sleep. All she thinks now as she closes her eyes and prepares to go to sleep, is Adora, Adora, Adora. Pretty name, she thinks. 


	2. One look and my heartbeat stops

Adora doesn’t remember how it began, honestly. 

“Wow,” Catra deadpans, from where she’s sprawled across her lap “I am shocked. Really. Stunned. Stupefied.” 

“Dazed,” Finn picks up “Mystefied. Astounded.” 

Adora rolls her eyes at their shenanigans. It surprises her sometimes how similar Finn is to Catra, from the way they walk to their habit of snarking at absolutely everyone and everything. Their kid is a mini-Catra, and honestly? She couldn’t be happier. 

But also, sometimes both of them are the most annoying people she has ever encountered in her entire life. 

Catra sticks her tongue out at her, like she knows exactly what Adora is thinking, then asks “You’re seriously thinking about picking me up and throwing me into the lake right now, don’t you?” 

_I love you_ , is what Adora thinks, with a sudden, sharp ache in her chest. The words bubble up multiple times a day, and she usually says them out loud, but there are also times when they feel like a secret too huge to share, like something she wants to hold and keep and protect in her hands forever. Sometimes her love is the comfort of domesticity, of pillow forts in front of the fire, whispered goodnights in bed by the light of the moon and morning kisses between bites of breakfast. Other times it rises up in her so fiercely that it leaves her weak and aching, leaves her wondering how she ever managed to exist and breathe without Catra around her. She doesn’t ever want to live without Catra again. And Adora will challenge every single God who might even try to take her away. 

“Oh, always,” she says, instead, but her eyes are soft, and Catra can see right through her. Adora kisses her and waves away Finn’s groans of how gross they were. 

“I love you, dumbass,” Catra tells her, and the ache passes. Everything is right in the world. 

**********

Adora’s version of the beginning: 

Adora is five minutes into the Princess Alliance meeting when she realizes that a, the meeting has nothing to do with attack plans and instead b, all the princesses plan to discuss her situation with Catra. It takes her this embarrassingly long to realize it because she isn’t really paying attention. Her mind is consumed with thoughts of Catra, like it has been since a couple of days, when she saw her after more than a year of having no idea of where or how she was. Glimmer has to mention Catra twenty times before she listens, properly. 

“Wait, what are we talking about?” 

“You and Catra, of course,” Netossa smirks at her, and gets elbowed by Spinnarella. 

“Are we still on about that?” Mermista asks “I thought we decided we would lock them up in a room and force them to talk it out.” 

“Oh, yeah, because locking our friend with a literal Horde commander is the best option we have, right?” Glimmer has an expression on her face that makes Adora want to duck for cover. She looks indignant, and ready to punch the lights out of anyone who wants to argue with her. Adora looks at Bow, who has a tentative hand on Glimmer’s shoulder, and makes a face at him, which he mirrors. Ah, Bow. 

Frosta crosses her arms and grumps “Well, I for one think that this entire thing is stupid. Why are we not talking about pummeling people or punching them instead of, whatever this is?” 

“That’s because you think everything that does not involve physical violence is stupid,” Mermista points out, which, yes, Adora is inclined to agree, but she smiles at Frosta anyway. The Ice Princess might be a tad bit too inclined towards beating people to a pulp, but they doted on her all the same. 

The only one not interacting, Adora realizes after another ten minutes of this, is Perfuma, who has, in the flurry, disappeared off to one of the windows that look out over the gardens. Adora takes one last glance at everyone arguing, then gently slides out of her chair to go join her at the window. Perfuma smiles at her raised eyebrow, a silent question asking if Adora could join her, and lets her settle in. They sit there for a while, just soaking in the sunshine. 

“What do you think?” she asks. 

“I think,” the flower princess says, gently “That it must be a terrible affliction to be consumed so with another person. To feel their absence like a missing part of your body, to feel every inch of your heart drawn helplessly, towards what it knows very well has the potential to destroy it. To bear that pain for so long, must not be easy, and so, I think that mostly, I am sorry.” 

And Adora hadn’t even been asking what Perfuma had so eloquently answered, but now that the words are out there, she doesn’t even care what her original question was. She feels a sharp ache in her throat, and her eyes blink with a sudden onslaught of what she thinks are tears. _I’m so tired_ , she thinks. _So tired of missing her_ _, of_ _needing her_ _and she doesn’t even know me_. 

Perfuma lets her rub at her eyes discreetly while she continues watching at the gardens, then pats her on the back. 

“I’ll be okay,” she says, once her voice isn’t in immediate danger of cracking “I’ll be okay.” 

They stand, side by side, looking over the gardens, and for the moment, things are better. 

*****

Adora has the tendency to laugh at Glimmer and Bow if ever they act lovestruck and generally idiotic in each other’s presence, but what happens to her the second time she sees Catra is so embarrassing that for months after that, the mere thought of it would make her want to curl up into a ball and die. They had been scouting nearby villages for Horde activity, and had found themselves near a village in the middle of another fight between Horde soldiers and the few princesses who had accompanied her. Spinarella, Netossa, Frosta and Mermista were off with Sea Hawk on an adventure on the seas, and the rest of them found themselves battling Horde bots, with concerned rejoinders screamed out in the midst of battle, intermittently. 

(“-Somebody please tell Bow to stop cooing over the random baby and start shooting arrows!” 

“-I refuse to shoot the baby!” 

“-At the Horde, Bow.”) 

(“-Who let Perfuma face-off against the woman with the pincers? They’re just throwing pleasantries at each other!” 

“-How is that any better than whatever you and Catra had going on last time?” 

“-Not the time, Glimmer!”) 

And of course, this is the time when Catra appears, finally climbing out of the tank, and exactly like the last time, Adora’s vision goes single-focus, zooms into her face, and her mind goes haywire. _I missed you_ _so much,_ _Catra_ , she thinks. Her heart starts beating faster, which she’s pretty sure can’t all be attributed to the physical exertion, and she finds herself wondering if her hair looks fine or if her face might have dust on it. 

_Snap out of it_ , she addresses herself, sternly, but it doesn’t work. Her body doesn’t work normally around Catra, her mind just isn’t the same, and she is halfway to making her way towards the other girl in a daze, before Glimmer lets out a scream loud enough to deafen even the bots. 

“Don’t you dare walk over to her, Adora!” she yells, and Adora freezes. 

“But-” 

“No buts! You lost She Ra the last time you stood in front of her. You’re not fighting with her!” 

She pouts at this, but it has given her an idea. She continues walking until she is at a safe distance from Catra, and engages a few Horde soldiers in battle. It barely takes her effort to fight and talk at the same time. 

“Hey, Catra,” she calls, easily punching a Horde soldier “How are you?” 

Catra keeps stealing strange looks at her, engaged in fights of her own, and Adora catches her rolling her eyes “What do you care, Rebel?” 

And it stings, but Adora brushes it off. Baby steps. She pulls out something from her pocket, tosses it to Catra, who with unerring aim of her paws, catches it easily. 

“What-” 

“You found this for me once,” she explains, pointing to the tiny pouch she’s just thrown “Back when we used to go out on missions together? Picked this up in a village somewhere and handed it to me because I thought it was pretty. Remember?” 

Catra stills, examines the bag intently “I. You-” 

And it is during this distraction that she doesn’t notice a stray arrow fired by Bow, which is due to hit in about a second. Adora does, though, and in that second, shoves Catra aside to let the arrow sink in to her left shoulder instead. The sting is minor, but painful enough that she transforms back from She Ra into regular her again. 

About three people simultaneously scream her name, and Catra runs off, again. So Adora does, the only thing that makes sense to her. She tries to follow. 

“Catra!” 

“You should go back,” the reply is curt, and delivered without turning. 

“But we should talk-” 

“Why?” Catra whirls around, eyes flashing with fury and confusion “Why should we talk? What does it matter? At the end of the day, you’re an eight-foot magical Princess fighting for the Rebellion and I’m a Force Captain for the Horde. No matter how good of friends we were, at the end of the day, all of this is still because you made the choice to leave the Horde. To leave me.” 

Shadow Weaver. Adora should have known she would spin things her own way. She stands there, head bowed, still clutching at her arm. Catra breathes heavily, looking drained from her rant. 

“And at the end of the day, you’re still someone I don’t remember. So why do you care so much? Wy are you trying to remind me? And why,” at this, her eyes fall to her injured shoulder and they soften slightly, although they still seem supremely confused “Why are you getting hurt for me, you idiot?” 

And oh, the last word drives all the pain out of her mind. Getting called an idiot probably wasn’t high on the list of cute things one could do, but it makes Adora want to smile because it is still a reminder of the old times. 

“You used to call me that, you know?” she tells Catra, quietly. 

“That’s probably because you are one,” Catra retorts, but it lacks actual venom. 

Adora just keeps smiling at her. 

“Why are you doing that?” 

“Smiling? Because it’s nice getting to talk to you.” 

Catra blushes (it makes Adora’s heart trip in her chest), mumbles something that sounds like _You idiot,_ then rubs at her forehead. Adora recognizes the gesture from back when they were together, as a sign of her feeling extremely embarrassed, and waits. 

“Get that checked out,” Catra tells her, after a while, turning to walk away, then adds in an undertone “Idiot.” 

“I’ll see you around,” she calls after her retreating back, the smile refusing to exit her face. If Catra decides to open the pouch she’s given her, she might even get to see her tonight. 

*****

Adora waits. 

The night wind is cool and invigorating, and it makes her shiver a little as she scales the walls of the castles. Sneaking out isn’t that difficult; there’s a friendly guard at the gates who loves dumplings, so all she needs to do is bribe her with some, and she’s golden. She’s left Glimmer and Bow sleeping soundly behind, Glimmer stretched out on the bed, Bow crashed out on the floor with their hands joined, and hopes no one wakes up before she’s back, or else there’s going to be Glimmer-sized levels of trouble. Or Angella-sized, but that depends solely on how loud Glimmer screams at her. 

She sits down on a rock when she gets to the clearing, and fiddles with her sword. There’s no guarantee Catra will come; no guarantee that she’ll even have opened the pouch instead of throwing it into the trash, but hope springs eternal (this particular phrase makes her think of Light Hope hopping forever in the Crystal Castle, and she giggles), and she doesn’t mind waiting. If there is even the slightest chance of meeting Catra, she’s willing to wait the entire night. 

An hour passes, and she settles in more comfortably. She’s slid far enough so that the surface of the rock is now against her back, and if she can close her eyes for just a minute, it wouldn’t be so bad. Like, just a minute. She’ll wake up if there’s any movement. For sure. Totally going to wake- 

“Are you planning on falling asleep right there?” Catra asks her, conversationally from somewhere above her head, and Adora wakes up with a start, let’s out a yell and fumbles with her sword. 

“For the honor of, oh, it’s you.” 

“Expecting someone else?” Catra arches an eyebrow, leans against a neighboring tree. 

Adora shakes her head, lowers her arm which was just about ready to launch her sword, and tries to relax. She imagines what it must look like to someone passing by, two girls standing awkwardly in the dark forest, stealing glances at each other. They would probably think we’re young lovers, and she doesn’t know why the thought makes her feel hot all over. 

“You came,” she says, finally. 

Catra rubs at her forehead again, and the extends her hand “Uh, yeah, I. Scorpia wanted me to give you a letter meant for the, um, flower princess so? Yeah.” 

“So, you’re just here to pass on a letter and definitely not because you want to see me,” Adora says. 

“Yes, definitely that. No other reason.” 

“Of course.” 

“Of course,” Catra repeats her words back to Adora. 

There is silence again. 

“Um,” Catra starts “You said we were friends? Back at the Horde?” 

Something bubbles up in Adora’s heart. She thinks it’s probably eagerness. 

“Yeah!” she replies, brightly “Do you want? Can I? You want to hear about it?” 

“I mean, I, yeah, I guess,” Catra says, still looking supremely awkward, but also interested “I’d rather not have a huge fucking hole in my memories, so. But just so you know, this doesn’t change things. We’re still enemies. Still a rebel and a Force Captain.” 

Adora nods. Baby steps “It started when Hordak brought you back from one of his missions,” 

She starts talking, and conversation doesn’t end until the early hours of the morning. Not until Adora’s told Catra about the pranks they played on Kyle, or all the fistfights she got upto on behalf of Catra. Not until Adora slides her jacket over Catra’s shoulders because her best friend has zero sense of self-preservation (it hangs off of her frame, and it makes Adora feel like her heart’s going to burst from all the overtime beating it’s been doing). There they sit, two girls from opposite sides of the same war, and even if, in the end, Catra tells Adora she’s an idiot, even if she walks away back to the Fright Zone, it doesn’t matter, because Adora hopes, believes, that she will be back the next night. And then the night after that. 

(Adora doesn’t mind waiting for Catra every night. She kind of doesn’t mind waiting for her, forever.) 


	3. Ships pass in the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know there was a huge delay, and truly, I have no excuses. Just got super discouraged about writing, generally. But here I am, with another chapter.  
> I hope y'all like it.  
> Happy reading!

_“_ So, this was how your grandmothers managed to fall in love, children,” Finn tells their kids, a mischievous glint in their eyes, fake-wiping a tear from their right eye, and Adora has to stifle a grin at the dramatics. Truly, Double Trouble would be proud, that little shit. “Clandestine meetings at night while the both of them pined for each other, desperately, hoping against hope that their feelings would be returned. Truly an inspiration for the lovelorn and the love lost.” 

The group titters, and Adora, despite being on the receiving end of it, thinks it’s probably the cutest sight she has ever had the privilege of experiencing. Did she know this was going to happen, many, many years ago when she was living life day to day, bruise to scar? All the time she was fighting with Catra, and secretly yearning for her, had she even an inkling of what lay ahead for her, of how her life was supposed to be? Eighteen-year old Adora didn’t have a clue she was going to end up marrying the ridiculous idiot currently sprawled out in her lap, and end up having the greatest kid in the world with her. She didn’t even know that she loved Catra. Or that Catra loved her back, with a ferocity that neither of the could begin to comprehend. Life was indeed strange. 

“Ah, Finn,” Catra drawls “Have we told you how wonderful you look today?” 

Finn narrows their eyes, hums. 

“So beautiful. So handsome. And that dress! It is a marvel! You look so dolled up. Almost, doll-like. You know, so much so, that we could almost call you-” 

And with a striking clarity that could only have come from spending all these years listening to Catra tell her trademark terrible jokes at dinner parties and at home on the couch, Adora knows what she’s leading up to and picks up from there “We could almost call you, doll-Finn.” 

“A dolphin!” Catra repeats, delighted, and while they high-five each other over Finn’s loud groans, the air fills with the sound of exuberant laughter. 

**********

**A moment in time**

They are sparring in the middle of the night. A throwaway comment by Adora had somehow caused great affront to Catra and she had, very proudly, challenged Adora to a fight. Which, generally, she wouldn’t mind, except she’s fighting in her normal form, and it takes a little more effort than usual. 

“Hah!” Catra swipes at her having pinned Adora’s arm behind her back “I win! I win against the mighty She Ra, the strong protector of the-” 

And in a flash, Adora has turned her around and slammed her onto the ground so that Catra is now pinned down under her weight. “Uh huh.” 

Catra blinks, and that’s' the moment Adora realizes exactly how close they are. She’s completely pressed up against Catra, their faces mere inches apart, and Catra looks as startled as Adora feels right now, her breathing heavy, and _what in the name of_ _hell is happening to her heart_ ? It’s pounding in her chest like Bow being chased do wn by Horde bots, like Glimmer when confronted with broccoli, and every inch of her skin that is exposed feels aflame. She has the intense urge to tear her eyes away from Catra’s , because everything suddenly seems so much, so damn close that all she can think is different variations of _what, why, how, and whoa,_ _Catra’s_ _skin seems_ _so soft, I wonder what it would feel like if I leaned down and pressed my nose into her cheek,_ _her_ _hair looks like it smells nice and I want to bury my face in it_ _,_ _Catra_ _,_ _Catra_ _, and_ _Catra_. 

They stare at each other a moment more, before something in the grass beside them moves, and like a spell being broken, Adora scampers off of Catra, looks for the culprit, which turns out to be a frog, and then they sit there in silence, still breathing heavily, still red. 

“I should go,” Catra says abruptly, before she gets up. 

“Hey,” Adora calls out “Catra, wait!” 

But all that she hears back are the quick footsteps of Catra walking away. 

*****

**Another moment in time**

Catra is unusually quiet today. Adora doesn’t know why, and doesn’t want to pry, but she can’t help wondering why Catra has stayed an arm’s distance away this entire time. She seemed fine in the morning, when they’d met for battle over a tiny village on the edge of Bright Moon. Now, she keeps fidgeting, like she can’t wait to get away, and Adora can’t help but feel a little hurt. _It’s not like she has to come_ , she thinks. _She could have just stayed away_. 

“Hey Catra,” she speaks, finally, after a while going back and forth in her head “You don’t have to be here, you know? Like-” 

“You want me to go?” Catra asks, standing up, sounding hurt, and now Adora mentally smacks her own head. 

“No, I-” 

“I can go.” 

“No, I just. You seemed like you didn’t want to be here. You’ve been standing there in the dark this entire time,” she finishes, lamely, notices how Catra flinches almost minutely. 

“I. Yeah, You’re right. I should go.” 

“No, wait,” Adora says, reaching out and grabbing her elbow. She turns her around, and Catra flinches again. Adora lets go immediately, apologizes. They’re standing in the dark, and while she can’t make out Catra’s face, it is obvious that the girl has her arms crosses and her posture is tense. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“Nothing.” 

“Catra.” 

“I told you, nothing’s wrong,” Catra replies, and it has never been more obvious to Adora that something’s definitely wrong. Her head’s ducked, and she keeps moving from one foot to another. 

Adora frowns, thinks of any reason things were this weird “Did you get hurt in the battle this morning or something?” 

Catra flinches as soon as she says ‘hurt’. 

“Catra?” she asks again, her stomach twisting “Catra, come into the light, please, I-” 

“I’m fine!” 

“No, you’re not, Catra, please,” she asks, and she knows she’s begging, but she needs to see her face, needs to know what’s wrong, and slowly, Catra lets her pull her into the moonlight. 

Adora gasps when she finally sees it. There’s an angry, red mark running across Catra’s neck, and it looks painful. There are remnants of some sort of balm, courtesy Scorpia, she assumes, but it hasn’t worked much, and she doesn’t realize her grip on Catra has involuntarily tightened, until Catra shifts uncomfortably. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, loosening her hold, but there are so many things running across her mind that she has no idea what to say or do. _Who did this to you_ , is first. The rage coursing through her veins is like nothing she has ever felt before. Adora has always thought of herself as a pretty peaceful person but now, if she just had her sword, she swears that she would have killed whoever had done this to Catra. She takes a deep breath. “Who did this to you?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Catra tries to look away again, but this time Adora doesn’t let her. 

“Look at me, please,” she ducks her head, trying to meet her eyes Catra.” 

“You’re trembling,” Catra whispers, looking right at her now, her eyes glossy. 

She was. Her hands were shaking minutely, a sign of the immense rage, she guessed. But that wasn’t all. Accompanying the rage was the need to hold Catra tight, and protect her from this entire world. The thought stopped her short, not because it was the first time she had thought it (it definitely wasn’t), but because of how intense the need was. Her hands were shaking in an effort to control them from wrapping herself around Catra and never letting go. _Catra_ _, please_ , she thinks, and then realizes that she’s said it aloud. 

“What, Adora?” Catra sounds softer than she’s ever heard her. 

“I can’t think,” she says, and without meaning to, her hand brushes Catra’s hair, cups her cheek, gently traces the edge of the scar. It can’t stay still, and neither can her other hand, which keeps moving up and down Catra’s back, as if to reassure her that she’s in Adora’s arms “Catra, please.” 

“It’s okay, Adora,” Catra tells her “Look at me. I’m okay. You’re okay.” 

And then Catra hugs Adora, and God, she can breathe again. She wants so much, and she needs so much, and she has no idea what to do with all of the feelings she’s carrying. There’s a terrible yearning rising up in her chest, to hold Catra tighter, and tighter, to absorb her into her chest, and keep her with her forever, but she can’t, so she just presses closer, her arms continuously moving all over her back, unable to stay still. _Catra_ , she says, into her neck, and with her mind still foggy with her proximity, presses a kiss to the fabric covering her shoulder once, twice. Catra shivers. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and feels Catra shake her head. 

“You’re crying?” Catra asks, and that’s when she feels the moisture of the tears on her face, dripping onto Catra’s neck “Adora, hey, are you crying?” 

Catra tries to break away to look at her better, but Adora, doesn’t let go, still not ready. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into her neck, knows the girl has heard it. 

“Stop apologizing, you idiot,” Catra whispers back, but there is only affection in her voice. 

“Don’t go back,” she says when they separate after a while, arms still loosely slung across each other “Come with me to Bright Moon.” 

She knows Catra’s answer before the girl even opens her mouth “You know I can’t.” 

Adora nods “Stay a little while longer, then?” 

And Catra does. 

*****

With all of this going on, there is her and Bow and Glimmer, who seem to be split apart more and more often. Glimmer, spending more and more time with Shadow Weaver, who defected to their side a couple of days back, has started lashing out at her and Bow. The princesses are in disarray. Everyone has their own thing to worry about. Mermista is worried about her kingdom. Perfuma is wrapped up in writing letters to Scorpia. Spinarella and Netossa, no matter how much they try to be the mothers to them, can’t hold them all together. Everything’s kind of falling apart. Adora feels the urge to just scream and scream until her throat is raw, sometimes, because she does not know how to hold it together anymore. 

And this is how her life is now, between Princess Alliance meetings in the mornings, and secret moments with Catra at night. There’s an ideological divide splitting them apart, but Adora justifies it to herself in increasingly creative ways. There’s Catra in the day, a feared Force Captain, working for Hordak, trapped (or so Adora tells herself) by their manipulations, and then there’s the Catra of night, hesitant, uncertain, skittish, a Catra who blushes sometimes when Adora brushes her hair off her face, who hides her smiles when Adora does something stupid. 

And even Adora, who is split apart five ways, can’t stop herself from returning to their meeting place every night, can’t stop herself from wanting to spend all her time with Catra, regardless of how much they fight in the daytime. There is only the tiniest amount of peace she finds every day, and that is when she gets to see Catra and hold her in her arms, and listen to her make fun of the princesses. There is no way she is giving that up, ever. 

**********

“And you still had no idea you were in love,” Finn deadpans, and she hides her face in Catra’s neck, because yes, she still had no idea that she had already fallen head over heels in love with Catra back then. 

“Hey,” she began “I’d find out soon enough, what with the intervention and Perfuma whacking me across the head with a sword shaped realization. So, here’s where it started. Kids, your aunt Glimmer, uncle Bow and I found out about a magic weapon under Etheria, that they called the Heart of Etheria....” 


	4. I don't want to wait 'til the next life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end!  
> I decided to get into Perfuma's headspace for this chapter because I thought it would be an interesting experiment to try. Lemme know if you like it. Or hate it.  
> And everyone who has been reading this so far, I'm so grateful to all of you. I love you guys. You're the best :)

**Perfuma** **: An Interlude**

Contrary to popular belief, Perfuma doesn’t immediately fall in love with Scorpia. That misconception is a cleverly contrived falsehood, perpetuated by Netossa, Bow and Mermista, through winks, nudges and raised eyebrows at Princess Downtime nights. Spinarella tries, bless her soul, to keep them in check, but give Netossa enough ammunition, and even stern looks don’t work. So, most nights see all of them in the same room, Glimmer and Bow snoozing on top of Swift Wind, Spinarella trying her best to amuse Frosta from her spot next to the fireplace where she is curled up with Netossa, Mermista groaning at random intervals, and Adora either engaged in plans or being a dumbass with her sword, acting out imaginary epic battles with Seahawk, and when they’re all together, conversation inevitably wanders to- 

“On a scale of now to never, how soon do you think Perfuma and Scorpia will get their shit together and mash faces?” 

Perfuma presses her lips together, tries to look dignified in spite of the heat crawling up her face, and checks the giant clock hanging on the far wall “And it only took you people an hour to arrive at the subject of Perfuma’s business that incidentally happens to be none of your business. I’m disappointed.” 

Everybody laughs, and though she does get annoyed at these idiots sometimes, she wouldn’t begrudge them these moments of happiness. There’s a war raging on, people getting hurt every day, and if this is the only time they get to let themselves go, they deserve this. This is what the books do not tell you about war; that most of the soldiers are children with their entire lives stretching out in front of them; that the mornings may be heavy with gunfire and magic spells, but the nights are for singing. 

Surrounded by laughter, unbidden, her mind wanders to Scorpia, as it so often does. She wonders what the girl might be doing at the moment. _Writing a letter to her, perhaps?_ she thinks, and feels warm . The longing snuck over her slowly, growing in intensity from a simple _I wish she was here right now_ to an _I wish she was here with me all the time_ _._ There isn’t one moment when Scorpia is far from her mind. Perfuma thinks of her while she is trying to get her morning meditation in, during Horde battles, when she’s sad, when she’s happy, thinks of her when she is trying to go to sleep, that night’s letter safely tucked underneath her pillow. Adora smirks every time Perfuma hands her another letter meant for Scorpia like she’s any better, sacrificing all of her sleep to meet a girl herself. 

She is in the middle of rolling her eyes at Frosta betting a month on “them getting their act together”, when there is a terrible commotion from outside, and one of the guards comes running in. 

“Princesses!” she declares “There’s an enemy spy here.” 

And Adora is the first one to rush outside, followed by the rest of them, but Perfuma sees her first, standing next to a contraption she guesses is Emily. Scorpia smiles at her, and it almost makes things better, but then she tells them about Catra sending her away and everybody exchanges worried glances. Things are coming to a head. 

*****

“I don’t want you to go.” 

Scorpia turns around from where she’s staring out the window, looking torn “Perfuma, I- Glimmer is. And I. Glimmer believes in this. I can’t let her down.” 

_Glimmer is angry and_ _traumatized_ _and a child_ , she thinks, bitterly, but she understands. She’s lost her mother, driven away her best friends, and been adopted by that vile woman. Perfuma doesn’t blame her in the least, but she hates that Scorpia is being manipulated into activating a weapon that none of them have any idea how to handle, and which Adora explicitly forbade Glimmer from harnessing before she left for Beast Island. 

“Perfuma,” Scorpia walks over to her, ducks her head a little to look her in the eye “It’ll be okay.” 

“No, it won’t,” she tells her, instantly “It’s not going to be okay. She’s taking you back to that place, and there is absolutely no guarantee for your safety, and we don’t even know if her stupid, reckless plan is going to work, and Scorpia-” 

She pauses, stepping closer, wanting to say the words she has been thinking more and more each day. _I care about you, I_ _couldn’t bear to see you get hurt, I don’t know what I would do if you’re not okay. She thinks,_ _Scorpia_ _, can I hold you for a while and forget about this entire mess outside?_ _If I tell you I think about you all the time, that I_ _smile whenever someone mentions your name, that your voice speeds up my heartbeat_ _, will that be okay_ _?_

“Can I hug you?” she asks, instead. 

Scorpia wraps her arms around her shoulders, cradles her head with her right arm, and Perfuma feels so good she could die at this very moment and die happy. Scorpia is warm, and she’s so tall that Perfuma can rest her head on her collarbone, and from here, she can listen to her heartbeat. She feels safe, taken care of. 

She feels Scorpia tighten her arms, and let out a shuddering breath. Perfuma grudgingly lets go and looks up at her. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, gently. 

Scorpia looks like she’s considering something, then she leans down and kisses her forehead. “Yeah,” she says, “Now I am.” 

*****

They lose Scorpia and it’s the worst thing in the world. 

She stands at the door, looking back at the rest of them, trying to hold back Mermista. She’s surrounded with water, and still looks so radiant, so perfect, so, so beautiful that Perfuma can’t breathe. No, she screams, held back by Seahawk, you’re not doing this. 

“Perfuma,” Scorpia calls “Go.” 

And while she shakes her head desperately, still reaching out for her, she’s pulled away by her friends, the echoes of Scorpia’s voice telling her it’ll be okay still ringing in her ears. 

Nothing’s going to be okay. 

*****

“For heaven’s sake, Adora,” Perfuma finally loses it after they get back from the Fright Zone after their failed mission “You’re in love with her!” 

Catra and Melog are inside, sleeping next to Entrapta and Frosta, who have long claimed Swift Wind as a pillow. Wrong Hordak is puttering about, fixing up electronic gadgets for Entrapta. The rest of them are outside by the fire. Spinarella, who is still a little weak, sits by a log, supported by Netossa. Glimmer, Bow, and Seahawk are smirking at each other, and Perfuma is completely done with Adora, who has never looked more confused in her life. 

“What,” she starts, shakes her head, blinks “What are you talking about?” 

Oh, dear God. 

Perfuma marches up to her, and rams a finger to her chest “You. Catra. In love. With each other.” 

“That is-” 

“No!” she cuts Adora off “No. Listen to me very carefully. No more beating around the bush with a giant sword to hide your feelings. No more longing looks on missions. No more getting distracted during fights because you’re too busy protecting her to take care of yourself. Just. For the love of God. Tell her, please.” 

(Missing her morning meditation has really messed her temper up. Perfuma makes a mental note to never skip it again.) 

“But I’m not in love with her!” Adora says, blushing “Guys, tell Perfuma she’s crazy.” 

Everyone stares. 

“I’m not in love!” Adora’s pitch has reached panic levels they have never heard before “I just care about Catra an insane amount. But that’s because she’s my best friend. And I like spending all of my time with her. But again, because she’s my best friend. And do I think she’s the prettiest person on this planet? Do I hear her voice in my head when I’m trying to sleep? Do I want to hold her and keep her safe forever? Yes! But that, again, is because we’re best friends. And of course I want to see her face first thing in the morning and last thing at night, of course I want to kiss her stupid lips because oh-” 

The entire group is very pointedly not looking at each other. They stand there, lips pressed together, looking anywhere but directly at Adora, who is apparently, coming to some very planet-shattering realizations at the moment. And then, after five minutes of barely audible muttering on her part, some impressive frowning, a few head-shakes of disbelief, Perfuma swears all of them can almost hear her come to a stunning conclusion. 

“Oh my,” she mumbles “Is that what love is?” 

Netossa clears her throat “What did you think it was? Indigestion?” 

Spinarella pinches her arm, smiles at Adora fondly “It’s a little confusing, we get it.” 

Adora stumbles, dazed, then sits down, cross-legged right there on the grass. Perfuma feels a wave of sympathy for her, and on the heels of that, self-pity so intense it makes her want to burst into tears. What she wouldn’t give to have Scorpia with her at this very moment? They could have been two people in love, exchanging side-glances, blushing at eye-contact, brushing their hands against each other. Instead, the girl she loves is being controlled by the evilest entity in the entire universe. She blinks away the prickling behind her eyes, and waits. 

“I’m in love with Catra,” Adora says it out loud “I’m in love with Catra. I’m-” 

She pauses, then her face changes “Oh, God, I’m in love with Catra. Oh dear God. What the hell? Why the hell? How did this- I. Oh. No.” 

“There we go,” Glimmer whispers, her tone sympathetic. 

“We knew this was coming,” Bow carries on. 

“Why, this is probably what Mermista thinks every time she looks at me,” Seahawk completes, then frowns at everyone who is staring at him “What?” 

Perfuma walks over to Adora, sits down in front of her, and takes her hand. The hand touch says more than words can. It asks _Are you okay?_ Says _I’m sorry_. _It'll be alright. You’ll be alright_. 

Adora looks up at her, then, eyes shining with tears shed and unshed “She doesn’t love me back.” 

Exactly one second after she says this, the entire clearing bursts into sound, and startled, Perfuma realizes it’s the noise of their friends talking all at the same time. 

“Adora, a blind woman could tell Catra’s ridiculously in love with you.” 

“-Can we not bring Madam Razz into this? Anyways, have you seen how she looks at you? She may be Horde Scum, but she saved me up there and I’m convinced she did it mostly for you.” 

“-Have you not seen the way she looks at you, you ridiculous girl?” 

“-Sweetie, remember what we talked about? Either way, Adora, she loves you. I have seen her pull the most insane stunts to get out of hurting you during fights.” 

“-And what’s a little tussle between paramours, eh? Every love story requires these three things: affection, colorful insults, and a good ol’ sea shanty.” 

Adora looks vulnerable. Perfuma has never seen her like this. Not when she broke her sword and lost her powers. Not when she found out they had lost half of the Princesses to Horde Prime. Not when she has suffered losses and people and friends. Adora never gives up. Adora never loses hope. 

Except when it comes to love, which, as Perfuma has recently found, is a force none of them had bargained for. 

“Guys,” she says, finally “Let’s give Adora a bit of space, shall we? This has been quite a night for her.” 

Later, as they all trudge back inside, and bit by bit, settle into their sleeping bags, Perfuma keeps an eye out for Adora, who they had left sitting outside. Around one in the middle of the night, she sees her walk in, and stand over Catra for the longest time. As Perfuma watches with drowsy eyes, she pulls her jacket off, and gently places it over Catra’s sleeping form, before retiring to her bedding beside Catra’s. 

And Perfuma smiles, closes her eyes and hopes she dreams of Scorpia. 


	5. Sometimes you only get one chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! 
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who has read this, I love you guys so much. Please lemme know if you liked it, or if you hated it, or if you have any feedback. 
> 
> I hope y'all have a good day :)

Years after the end of the world, Catra will sit on her wife’s lap outside her cottage, surrounded by her grandchildren, and think about how it all began. Her idiot child will be there, trading barbs back and forth with her, and her heart will feel so full with the joy of the here and the now. _This is my family_ , she will think. _An annoying horse who is weirdly telepathically bonded with my wife_ _and a giant magical cat that is somehow weirdly telepathically bonded to me included_. Finn, who is a literal piece of her heart, their wife, and their gorgeous, hyperactive, impossible to control children. And finally, as she will gaze up at Adora’s face, her beautiful, kind, brave Adora, she will marvel at the inevitability of it all. How was she ever supposed to try to not fall in love with her? 

Finn reaches out their hand, and nudges her arm. _You okay, ma_? The touch says. 

She blinks, and comes back to the moment. Adora is in the middle of a very serious conversation regarding the therapeutic benefits of swinging a sword, with one of their grandchildren, and Catra loves this version of her. Not that she loves other versions of her any less. Dumbass Adora; Brave, reckless, jumping into fights with opponents much bigger than herself Adora; Adora who would lay down her life without a second thought for her friends; she loves them all. But this Adora, the Adora who smiles without a metaphorical sword hanging above her head, who dotes on their family, who thinks about the future with excitement rather than dread is her favorite one out of all of them. 

“Thought you were supposed to do the ending?” Adora smiles down at her teasingly. 

“Yes, please,” Finn begs “Enough of Mom being sappy already. I wanna hear about sappy Ma instead.” 

“Why do we have a child, Adora?” 

“I don’t know, my love? Should we give them away? I think it’s time.” 

“Very funny,” Finn deadpans, their wife’s hand on their shoulder, and Catra thinks, _ah,_ _I think we gave them away a long time ba_ _ck. No regrets, though._

“But are we funny?” Catra asks her “Or are we finny?” 

Adora is the only one laughs. Catra loves her for it. 

“How far back do you guys want me to go?” she asks the waiting audience, after the groans have fully died down. 

“When did you fall in love with Grandma?” someone asks. 

“Interesting question,” she replies “Unfortunately, there are no clear answers on this. You see, I’m pretty sure I’ve always been in love with Adora. Just took me a while to admit it to myself.” 

**********

She thinks she fell a little in love when she saw Adora the first time, a strange girl kneeling in front of her with her sword loosely in her hand, looking up at her like they knew each other. Maybe a little more when Adora took an arrow for her; thinks of the mixed anger and frustration and wonder at this person who was supposed to be her sworn enemy. And then she had just kept on falling more and more with every single meeting by the moonlight; every midnight walk, every playful insult, every sparring session just one domino in a million others, toppling all over each other until they reached the point of no return. 

But her thoughts are a mix of uncertainty and yearning, and all of it is so, so confused. _I feel like I’ve known you forever_ painfully colliding with _If you_ _cared about me you never would have left_ . _I can’t stay away from_ _you_ vs _I can’t stay with you_ . _l Iove_ _you,_ _I love you, I love you_ crashing against _You left me, you left me, you left me_. And in the middle of all of this is her resigned certainty that no matter what happens in the future, there is absolutely no chance that Adora loves her back. 

(She definitely doesn’t.) 

Not when she’s finally pushing her up against the wall of the spaceship with an angry look in her eyes Catra has seen many times before, but never this intense. 

“Catra, Horde Prime is tracking that chip. He’s coming for us right now,” Adora tells her when Catra screams at them to stay away “So grow up and let us remove it, or we’re all dead.” 

She sinks down to her knees, listens at Adora tells her that they never have to see each other again, and the defeated look in her eyes, more than anything else, breaks Catra’s heart. Being away from Adora, when they’ve already spent so much time apart is such a terrifying possibility. She never wants to not see Adora. And with all of this going through her head, she reaches out, grabs Adora’s arm, holds her hand. 

“Stay,” she says, and she means more than that one simple word can express. Adora does. 

*****

“If my helmet were that adorable, I’d leave it on, too,” Bow coos at her, and Catra wants, so badly, to scratch his face “Those ears!” 

Her face burns “It is not!” 

Somewhere she can feel Glimmer and Adora both laughing at her attempts to pull off that stupid thing, and she is completely prepared to give them both an earful except when she blinks Adora’s laughing and. 

Well. Catra doesn’t like admitting this often but she kind of melts into a puddle right there. It’s just that that girl she loves is giggling at her, and she’s ached so long for Adora to look at her that way that her heart is currently doing very funny things in her chest. 

And then Entrapta screeches. 

*****

Catra hates her. So much 

And if she were being totally honest right now, she can’t even decide who she hates more, Shadow Weaver for being callous and mysterious, or Adora for walking into random places that randomly burst into fire. 

(She keeps saying that everything with the princesses is ridiculously weird and nobody believes her but. Come on. This never happened in the Horde.) 

But Adora’s surrounded by flames and Catra doesn’t stop to think. She jumps in, and pulls the idiot out, landing on top of her, panic rushing through her bloodstream. It doesn’t go away until Adora opens her mouth. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she smiles, brightly, like the annoying idiot that she is, but Catra is so relieved that all she wants to do is hold her. And then smack her. But mostly hold her. 

“Did you just jump into fire for me?” 

Adora’s smirking at her, and her eyes carry teasing but also the hint of an underlying, something? And Catra can feel her face turning red, and her lips stretching into an involuntary smile, which is why she jumps off of her, protesting. 

She is not going to give Adora the satisfaction. But if she happens to hold onto Adora’s legs for a long time afterwards, as if to reassure herself that she’s not going anywhere, nobody mentions it. 

*****

“The heart of Etheria,” Adora says, wonder in her voice “We made it.” 

She stretches out her arm, trying to transform into She Ra, but something’s wrong. Catra sees the green cracks spread up her hands, and then she’s crying out in pain, barely making it back to her arms. Catra has never felt so helpless in her life. The girl she loves is in pain, and she can’t do anything to ease it. 

“It’s Prime’s virus. It’s keeping me from becoming She Ra.” 

“What does that mean?” Catra asks her, confused “Will the failsafe not work without her?” 

A tear trickles down Adora’s face, before she steels it “No, it’ll work.” 

“Get as far away from here as you can. I have to do the next part on my own.” 

Catra knows, she knows what Adora means, but she asks anyways “Adora, what do you mean?” 

“It’s okay, Catra,” Adora tells her, their foreheads touching, after she’s done explaining what is basically her death sentence “I’m ready.” 

_But I’m not_ , Catra wants to scream at her. She wants to grab Adora by the shoulders and shake her until she comes to her senses. _I’m not ready to lose you. I’m not re_ _ady to live without you. I’m not ready to see you die._ _Damn it,_ _Adora,_ she thinks, angry and so in love she can’t breathe _, why can’t you just stay for once?_

A few minutes later, with Adora lying on the ground, Catra begs. She begs for her to wake up. Begs for her to stay. She holds the love of her life in her arms, and prays to any God out there to give her back. _Please, please, please_ , she keeps thinking, her eyes filling with tears, and her heart beating too fast. _Please, Adora, come on. Come back to me._ _I love you_ , a constant mantra in her mind. _I loved you when we were children and I loved you when I didn’t even know you. I loved you more with every story that you told me, with_ _every scar I gave you, with every time we hurt each other. I love you so much, Adora, and even if I’ll never remember_ _, I’ll still love you. Please, don’t you dare give up now._

“I love you,” she says out loud, finally, her head buried in Adora’s hair “I always have. So please, just this once. Stay.” 

And there’s a tremendous sound behind them, and crackling and with a flash of light, something moves behind her, before Adora’s arm falls onto her shoulder. The girl in her arms opens her eyes, and they look at each other. 

“You love me?” Adora asks, like it’s such a huge surprise, and God, Catra both hates and loves her so much, her annoying hero. 

“You’re such an idiot,” is all she can say, really. Because she is. How could Catra not love her? 

“I love you too,” Adora tells her, and wha- 

What? 

Catra blinks, and then she does what she’s wanted to do for so long. She kisses her. And as the light behind her eyelids bursts into more light, and music plays in her head, and Adora’s lips move gently against her, Catra remembers everything. 

*****

“So what you’re telling us is that True Love’s kiss healed you and restored your memories?” 

Adora grabs her around the waist before she lunges at Glimmer, who is smirking. 

But all teasing aside, she is in too good of a mood to mind. Entrapta is screeching to Hordak about something something technology something. Swift Wind and Wrong Hordak and hi-fiving. Netossa and Spinarella are gently swaying in each other’s arms, too wrapped up in each other to notice anyone else. Mermista and Sea Hawk are doing their version of a romantic couple’s reunion, which is – strange, to say the least, but to each their own. Glimmer, who had just met her long-lost father after so many years, is arm in arm with him and Bow who is now her boyfriend, apparently? The girl she is in love with, loves her back, by some miracle. She gets to play with Adora’s hair, and kiss her cheek and hold her and do other embarrassing things that no one but Adora herself will ever be privy to. And there’s Scorpia slowly walking towards Perfuma and Frosta and oh- 

Silence falls over the clearing as Perfuma turns and sees Scorpia. There’s a tiny moment of silence. 

“Oh, hey,” Scorpia mumbles, rubbing at the back of her neck, and Catra groans internally “Perfuma. You look – nice.” 

(Catra buries her head in Adora’s shoulder. She has clearly failed her friend.) 

Perfuma takes a tentative step forward, then another, until she’s running full tilt at her, and before any of them can say “Flower Princess”, she has jumped into Scorpia’s arms and kissed her. 

The entire clearing bursts into whoops and cheers, and Catra very nearly joins in. What’s so wrong with feeling happy? Everybody has their happy ending. They’re all with their friends, and even though Catra has spent most of her life attacking them, they now think of her as one of their own. No more risking lives, no more bruises. There is just her, Adora, Adora’s annoying friends and her pet cat, and together, they make up the most dysfunctional family on the planet. 

Life is good. 

**********

Adora, still every bit as beautiful as when they were young, smiles at their huge family, and Catra knows that she wholeheartedly agrees. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna generally scream over random fandoms, on tumblr, hit me up [here](https://thedistrictsleepsalonetonight.tumblr.com/)


End file.
